Something is changed. I fell it in my bones. Nothing is like was. The places once known do not exist. The places once beautiful disappeared in desert dust. Who is staying there? Only they, who created these places. Survivors. Maybe they are enriched by something. Feelings. Experiences. History became legend. Legend became myth.
These words sound rather pessimistic. But what one thinks oneself, when he/she hears that something is already not or it will be not. Destruction, ruin and sorrow. Angara has passed out of his existence today.
Desert has absorbed everything. Only wailing wind is spreading and moving grains of sand. Runway with an aircraft is vainly waiting for passengers. I am also vainly watching for wanderers in desert. Nobody is coming.
It remains only hope that one day the city comes up from desert and an ancient glory will be restored. I believe.
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